


Courting Ritual

by RayByAnotherName



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Gaming, M/M, Phone Sex, Snowpines Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23491693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayByAnotherName/pseuds/RayByAnotherName
Summary: Written (late) for Snowpines Week 2020 Day 4. The prompt was gaming.Oscar plays with an arrogant prick, but the fun comes when they switch from the Xbox to their phones. The line between annoying and flirting are very thin.  Implied phone sex.
Relationships: Oscar Pine/Whitley Schnee
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Courting Ritual

"And that would be 12 headshots for me, and none for you." 

Oscar rolled his eyes at the haughty voice streaming through his headset. PrinceoftheMountain was the most competitive, and arrogant, man to ever pick up an Xbox controller. 

"Shall we adjourn for the evening or would you like me to continue destroying you?" There was no sneer to his voice, but Oscar knew damn well the bastard had his nose in the air. 

"You keep talking like that and I might just have to destroy you back." Oscar drawled, voice low and heavy. Prince started stuttering immediately. A choking noise filled his head phones and Oscar couldn't keep from giggling, "You're so easy!" 

The selfies the two of them had sent a few months back had told Oscar that Prince was as pale as he was arrogant and he imagined the man was a beautiful shade of crimson right about then.

"I'd be more direct, but I know your delicate ears can't take that without our proper courting rituals." Oscar continued to tease him, laughter on his lips. 

Prince huffed, "Must you make that joke every time?" Oscar's headphones went silent as Prince signed off. A second later, his cell began to ring. Oscar answered it and Prince picked up right where he left off, "Wanting to keep our personal relationship in a more private setting does not constitute a courting ritual."

"Yes, my lord," Oscar said, rolling his eyes. Prince hurrumphed. "Can I ask you what you're wearing now?" 

"Nope." Prince deadpanned. Oscar froze for a moment, mind racing as he considered whether he'd pushed the joke to far. 

Oscar squeaked, "It was a joke Whitley, I didn't mean anything by it. I swear-" A chuckle cut off Oscar's rambling apology. 

"I won the round." Whitley sighed. Oscar heard the creak of wood and knew Whitley had sat down on his bed. His voice deepened. "I believe our agreement holds that you must tell me what you're wearing first."

"You're an ass." Oscar let out a breath and shuffled about on his bedroom floor so that his back was against the foot of the bed. 

Whitley hummed, "As long as it's a toned ass, I'm fine with that." He clapped his hand against his chest few times. The sound told him the other man was shirtless. "Chop chop, now, Oscar. Description, go." 

"I'm in my pajamas," Oscar laughed, and he felt his cheeks warm as he glanced down at his body. "Green cotton, from neck to ankle." Whitley whined. "Want me to take them off?" 

"Don't ask dumb questions."

Oscar unbuttoned his pajama top and threw it aside. "Alright. Pajama shirt gone." His fingers traced the scar on his chest. A tiny round spot, jagged and torn.

"Stop messing with your scar," Whitley barked and Oscar jumped hand dropping to his side. He stared up at his ceiling, lips tugging into a smile. Whitley started to describe his jeans next - the color, the thread count, the number of belt loops. 

Oscar closed his eyes and imagined his princely suitor on his over the top canopy bed. He'd described that down to the missing bolt on the bottom right corner just last month. 

"Take them off." Oscar said, interrupting Whitley mid-sentence. It earned him an annoyed sigh and the rustling sounds of Whitley moving about on his silk sheets. 

"Done." Whitley said with a huff, his voice breathy. "I'd forgotten how these trousers like to trap me in. I'll have to bin them later." 

"Or…" Oscar spoke slowly, hesitant, "You could keep them for me to take off you." The phone went silent. "Whitley?" 

A sudden gasp told Oscar the other man was still there, "Next month." Oscar scrunched up his brow at the sudden rush of words. "I'll be in Mistral next month. We could…"

"Yes." Oscar said quickly. A chuckle escaped his lips, "Tell me when and where, I'll be there."

Whitley let out an audible breath. "Good." He was silent just a moment, and then he spoke with force, "Now…what would you do to me once you took them off?"


End file.
